


Private Introspection

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-16
Updated: 2006-06-16
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Draco is stuck at #12 Grimmauld Place with a whole houseful of Weasleys.  But at least he's getting some.





	Private Introspection

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Written for the Lusty Month of May over at [Pervy Werewolf](http://community.livejournal.com/pervy_werewolf) and also as a gift for [Karasu Hime](http://karasu_hime.livejournal.com/). **Warnings:** Voyeurism, angry teenagers  


* * *

Finding any privacy in Number 12 Grimmauld Place was practically impossible, what with all the Order members going in and out at all hours, and the fact that those bloody Weasleys found squatting a perfectly acceptable way to behave when confronted with someone else's ancestral home. The sea of red that Draco saw daily was nearly enough to send him crawling back to Father so he might beg and plead for the dubious honour of being an insignificant minion of a half-blooded, homicidal maniac. 

Of course, then he'd remember the vague waves of nausea that had overcome him as his father told him what would be expected of him as a Death Eater trainee, and he'd drop that idea right quick. The most horrible parts hadn't even been the Dark Mark or the "Hello, my name is Draco, and I'm here to eat death" nametag; he just found blood so...bloody. Draco considered changing sides a deeply personal, well thought out decision (involving a general malaise toward action of any kind and the potential for possible wardrobe horrors, but a decision nonetheless), and he especially resented that the only other person that seemed bothered by being forced to live at the hub of goodness, light, and too damned many freckles was Potter. 

So, of course, they were fucking. 

The fucking wasn't an issue; it was more the fact that this joint resentment meant that he and Potter had something in common. The fucking was actually quite pleasant. Draco didn't have anyone to impress, and though he'd got his rebellious urges out when he walked out on his suddenly even more overzealous, Azkaban escapee father, taking claim of the house left to him as the closest living male relative to the Black line, but Potter had apparently never got a proper chance for similar actions of his own. Besides, anything that stopped Potter from sulking or stomping around yelling was all right with Draco, and even though that hadn't exactly been what Draco had meant when he'd promised to have Potter, Scarhead also happened to be really good with his mouth. 

Of course, with the privacy problem, Draco didn't get enough chances to put that mouth to good use, so it was a bit of a relief when Potter jerked his head in one direction and muttered, "C'mon then," one morning after breakfast. 

The room Potter led him to was hidden away in one of the dustier corners of the house and kind of cramped with a wardrobe at one end and portrait after portrait of Black relatives lining the walls, which would have been creepier had Potter's hand not been in his trousers, nor his tongue shoved halfway down Draco's throat. The room was filled with wordless noise -- both boys' muffled moans, the shuffling of rubber-soled feet against hardwood floors, the horrified gasps of the paintings who were possibly too shocked to take further action, and the rattling of the doorknob. 

"Shit!" Potter said, freezing in place. "Did you lock that door?" 

"What? No! _You_ dragged _me_ in here!" 

Potter swore under his breath, then frantically searched the room until his eyes landed on the wardrobe. "Get in," he ordered, pointing. 

"What?" Draco repeated. "I am not getting in some dusty wardrobe, just to fulfil some deviant enclosed space fantasy of y--" 

The door rattled again. 

Potter made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a squeak. "Listen," he began in a rushed whisper, "Dumbledore showed me this place; it's supposed to be a room for private introspection or some such rot, and I wasn't supposed to tell _anyone_ about it -- let alone _you_ , Malfoy -- so get in the closet so I can toss you off without anyone finding out about us, all right?" 

Draco carefully considered his options. On the one hand, getting Potter in trouble. On the other...handjob. He shrugged and climbed into the wardrobe. Potter hastily followed, only managing to get the door most of the way closed before the intruders burst into the room. 

Draco was not pleased. The wardrobe was musty and hot and contained clothing older than Great Aunt Lucinda, Descendant of Mothballs, not to mention Potter was standing on his foot and decidedly not giving Draco a handjob, and he was also watching Professor Snape make out with a werewolf. Introspection room, his arse. Beside him, Potter made a noise that met halfway between indignation and disbelief, with perhaps a twinge of being terribly grossed out. 

"Introspection room, Severus?" Lupin asked, his back slamming against the door and giving Draco a pretty clear view of the action. 

Snape replied, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "doddering old coot," but Draco wasn't sure as Snape's face was buried in Lupin's neck, and he seemed rather occupied with pulling off Lupin's robes with amazing speed and efficiency, the action accompanied by the surprising revelation that Lupin possessed a rather fit chest. Draco's cock took interest in the proceedings again, recovered from its brush with unwelcome interruption and threat of discovery. 

Potter made that awful noise again. "What the fuck is Remus doing?" he moaned piteously. 

"Well, you see, Potter, when two people care about each other very much, or are perhaps horny...or bored...or _breathing_ , they--" 

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry hissed. "I mean, it's...it's _Snape_. Why the hell would he let _Snape_ touch him like-- like _that_?" 

"What do you mean, 'it's _Snape_ '? Shouldn't you be asking yourself why our esteemed Potions professor is letting a filthy half-breed dark creature touch him with his grubby paws?" 

Snape dropped to his knees then, pulling Lupin's trousers open. Draco bit his lip as Lupin shifted a little, revealing _exactly_ the reason Snape would want to touch Lupin an instant before Snape's mouth slid over the head of Lupin's cock. 

Potter made yet another strangled noise. "But-- but they _hate_ each other." 

"So do we, you idiot, and it doesn't stop us. Speaking of, you could always follow their example..." Draco gestured toward the action as best he could in the tiny space. 

"No way," Potter said flatly. 

"If you find it so disgusting, you may as well keep yourself occupied." Draco shoved his trousers down his hips and reached inside to pull out his heavy erection, stroking lazily. Potter watched him, tongue poking out semi-attractively between red lips and slowly shook his head. "You promised," Draco reminded him, just as Lupin desperately groped for the doorknob and cried out, "Severus!" 

"...Fine," Potter muttered, cringing. "But don't expect me to like it." As quietly as he could, he knelt before Draco, wrapping his own fingers around Draco's and sliding their joined hands to the base of Draco's cock, keeping them there. Potter flexed his fingers just as his lips closed over the head, sucking hard, as though he was trying to get this over with immediately. 

" _Slowly_ ," Draco said, glancing down at Potter, who pulled back and grinned, licking a stripe along the underside of Draco's erection. Draco gasped and looked up again, watching as Lupin urged Snape up again, the two kissing so deeply, so hard, that Draco gasped again from the sight of it. He bit back a moan as Potter's tongue swept over the head again, joined hands sliding in choppy, short movements. Potter's mouth swallowed him down again and again, lips touching their hands with every pass. 

Lupin had pushed away from the door and was kicking off his shoes and trousers as both men pushed Snape's robes from his body. Draco raised his eyebrows and muffled a groan by stuffing his free hand into his mouth, surprised that Snape wore nothing -- _nothing_ \-- underneath; he wondered if that was for Lupin's benefit or if he dressed like that every day. The idea that he might teach _classes_ like that was a little disturbing, even given how turned on he was, so Draco pushed that aside. 

He nearly doubled over from a fierce wave of pleasure as Lupin fell to the floor now, positioning himself on his hands and knees. 

"Fuck me," Lupin ordered, and Draco felt it as Potter moaned around his cock. He looked down and saw Potter's free hand shoved down his own trousers, jerking furiously to match the rhythm his mouth kept on Draco's cock. 

When Draco tore his eyes away from one painfully erotic sight to meet another, Snape was throwing his wand aside and fisting his own sizeable erection, slicking it before brutally pushing it into Lupin's body, foregoing all pretence. Both men shouted; Draco moaned, unable to hold it back, and he made the mistake of looking down again, focusing on Potter's face and his own cock sliding between pouty lips, cast grey in the limited light of the wardrobe. 

"You don't l-- look bad like this," Draco gasped and Potter made a noise, sucking firmly. With another muffled moan, Draco fucked their joined hands and Potter's mouth, coming in a flood that left him shuddering and slumped against the wardrobe's side. 

He urgently tugged Potter up once he'd regained the ability to move again, adjusting them both so Potter stood in front of him, so they might both see Snape pounding into Lupin's arse, hard and fast and merciless. 

"Malfoy, I don't want--" 

" _Watch_ ," ordered Draco, biting the side of Potter's throat and sliding his hand into his trousers, squeezing his cock. Potter moaned, so Draco bit again. "Quietly." 

Snape groaned and dug his fingers into Lupin's hips, pulling out and _slamming_ back in again. "You are-- you feel so--" 

"Tight?" Lupin supplied with a moan and a gasp. "Should be. Never bottomed to -- oh, _God_ , Severus -- to anyone but you." 

Snape seemed at a loss for words, but he nodded to himself and deliberately slowed their pace, leaning forward to grasp Lupin's cock, matching the rhythm of his hips with his hand. Lupin moaned again. 

So did Harry. 

"Shh. They look good together, don't they?" Draco whispered, nipping Potter's earlobe and sliding his fingers over the mixed sweat and precome slicking Harry's erection. "Hatred's not such a terrible motivator." 

Potter turned his head to the side, straining back so he could kiss Draco, tongues battling fiercely, but with an uneasy sort of familiarity, before breaking away to mutter, "Knew that already, you prat." Potter closed his eyes and whimpered. "Ah. Fuck. Your hand--" 

"Watch," Draco insisted as Lupin threw his head back and cried out loudly. Potter's eyes fluttered open again. 

"Severus," groaned Lupin. "Fuck me, fuck me, only need your cock inside me, oh, fuck, I'm coming, _love you_ , fuck!" 

Draco stared, shocked; Harry moaned and came all over Draco's fist; Lupin did the same to Snape; and Snape roughly cried, " _Lupin_ ," burying himself deep within the other man's body as a visible shudder wracked his thin frame. 

Harry's knees gave way then, and Draco -- still taken aback by Lupin's revelation that this wasn't purely hate-fuelled convenience -- overbalanced, sending them both into a sprawl just outside the wardrobe. Draco pulled his hand from Potter's trousers, wiped his palm on the oversized atrocity Potter called a shirt, and flashed his professors -- present and former -- his most charming smile. 

"Hello!" he greeted merrily. 

"Introspection room, my arse," Lupin said, chuckling as Snape scrambled to pull away from Lupin and gather up his clothing. 

"Mr Potter," Snape hissed, two high spots of colour staining his sallow cheeks as he glared daggers at Harry, "what is the meaning of this-- this... _abomination_?" 

"Was fucking Malfoy," Potter retorted sullenly. Draco thought if it were possible for a person to literally explode, Snape had a good chance of succeeding. 

"You-- this-- Dumbledore set this up for--" 

Lupin was pulling on his clothing in a far more laid-back manner. "You don't really have a leg to stand on here, Severus." 

"Does," Draco muttered under his breath. "He's nearly a tripod." 

"Harry," Lupin continued, ignoring Draco completely, "you might want to, er, bring your friends--" 

"We're not friends," Harry and Draco protested in unison. 

Lupin sighed. "Fine. Your...whatevers...somewhere other than a room of quiet reflection set up by the Headmaster, all right?" 

Potter glared for another moment, but he relented, shoulders slumping. "All right." 

"And Draco --" Lupin said. 

Draco leapt to his feet, pointing his finger accusingly. "I learn by example!" 

Lupin rolled his eyes. "Severus and I will stay out of here, too, then." The portraits released a simultaneous sigh of relief. 

Once Harry had sorted himself out, Lupin all but pushed Harry and Draco out the door. "I will need to tell Professor Dumbledore about this...incident. Sans detail, of course," he added hastily, still blocking the doorway. 

"There's no bloody privacy in this place," Potter complained, and Draco hated him for that because he was forced to agree with the speccy git _again_. 

"Privacy?" Snape shouted. "Mr Potter, when we get back to Hogwarts, I will make it so you neither will continue to corrupt my Slytherins, nor will you have anything resembling pri--" 

"Third floor, second door on the right. Rudimentary locking charm that needs breaking, but basically clear." Lupin smiled. "Don't tell Molly I said that. Go on now; Severus and I will clean up." With a smile and a wink, Lupin slammed the door in their faces. 

Draco stared at the closed door for a bit, blinking. Potter ran his hand through his hair, messing it so much that Draco was surprised that owl of his hadn't laid eggs there. 

"Er," Potter began intelligently. "So." 

"Third floor?" Draco asked, glancing sideways. 

"Third floor," Harry agreed. 

Taking off at a run, Draco decided it was good to have a place of his own. 

**END**


End file.
